Arizona weekly enterprise., 1887-06-11
ROMANCE OF APARS0NAGE

No sieepier little town than St. Anatoie lies nestled amid the vine clad hills of eastern France, none of more smiling, gracious aspect. There is picturesqueness, | too, about its quiet streets, the low arcades with round arches recalling Spanish occu- patton of Franche Conte, part of the rich | dover of Mary of Burgundy, and bits of | Spanish domestic architecture remain here 1 and there Round about rise the pleasant | hills, mere gentle declivities, although | designated by the name of mountains iD | these parts little river runs by the | town, hiding itself in green valley; be- yond tower the dark pine forests of the | Jura; while far away stretches the Al l pine fairyland, Mont Blanc, and it's sister l peaks, flakes of violet and amber in the | far distance. So dead alive this townling | of 2, GOO or 5, ,000 souls so unfrequented by l tourists and remote from the highways of | the world, that not a carriage awaits the chance traveller who makes a halt here. | Only 8 tumble down omnibus, for the con ESenielice of business men, plies between the ! railway station and the one inn of the place. | Into this cumbersome vehicle, on bright | September day, stepped a lady whose ap- pearance was little in keeping with such shabby surroundings. Her dress was sim | pie enough certainly, nuns were hardly ] palmer, yet the black gown of light gauge, | the long veil that seemed part of it and the small bonnet, q mere coronet of jet on the golden hair, but served to heighten the wearer's beauty. Hers was loveliness Of the most dignifed kind features, figure, carriage, indicated the nobility imparted by high rank and elegant bringing Gp, as well as certrin state natural to some women; and, in spite of the studied sobriety of dress, evidences were there of ancestral wealth and splendor. From her small ears hung rare enamels in the quaint setting of the Renaissance. The brooch that fastened her dress was a fieur de lis fashioned of pearls, evidently an heirloom; and as she gathered up her skirts to step into the omnibus, a founce of rich lace fell over the slender foot. There were no other passengers, and the blue bloused con ductor, hat in hand, stood by the door awaiting instructions. So self absorbed, however, was the lady, that she did not notice his presence, and he was obliged at last to ask her destination.
 Slightly coloring, and with the air of one aroused from deep reycrie, she made reply:
 Drive me, if you please, to the Pro testant parsonage,n
 Once or twice, when the horses slack ened speed, and she thought it was time 
 trembled violently anddr deep breath; but when indeed the wheels stood still, by 8 tremendous effort she recovered sell possession.
 ''Is the Pastor Anville withinfn Her voice did not tremble, but it was in g strained key. She had turned very pale and was evidently asking herself whether indeed she had courage to fulfill her CT l rand
 ] ''The Pastor Anyille?--I am he, wa. the reply, spoken briefly and absently.
 The minister had evidently been dis turbed in the midst of serious occupation and had not so much as given hinlsel tns w ss ia2stihy N RtgasE sa m. This sl he felt bound to invite her within.
 He was striking looking man, in mid dle life-that is to say, in his prime. sBu for the habiliments of Protestant pastor he must ct once have been taken for . Catholic priest The priestly stamp wa ' undoubtedly tiiere-thc fine features close ly shaven, the penetrating look, the gen I eral aspect, recalled rather the disciple O Loyola than of Calvin; and, could it be the crown of the head showed unniistaka ble signs of the tonsure.
 He was no meanly endowed son o Adam, quite the reverse; but for all tlIa an observer would single him out of crowd by reason of intellectual rather thal physical superiority. The noble brow, tn commanding look marked him fron others. He ought to have occupied on n of the metropolitan pulpits of the world Such man could but be force, moral a well us spiiitual-:an lighty lever of hunal wills and passions, powerful agent i the strife of good with evil.
 Bright sunshine filed the little study il which tue pair now stood face to face .u The lady had raised her veil, her fan gold brown hair caiight the sunlight. Tn place seemed iFrathated by her pensiy yet sunny beauty.
 '1Do you not recognize me nowsn sh asked in a voice of sweet, trembling feminine appeal. ssGeorgette de Bear mont--ofttinles your penitent in days gon by?''
 T forgot nothing, 3 was the bitter, pc, haps ironic reply You are one of thos who came to my confessional with you gfrlish dereIictions years ago.
 For a brief moment he had seemed t stagger, shrinking from that exquisit presence; but, just as she had done nl( ment before, by Q violent effort he no regaincd his self composure. Offering he q seat, tho pastor placed chair for hin self opposite her own, then closed the doc evidently prepared for confidence.
 ' I Ou nave como 10 me m some tfOuD or perplexity--that I see, ? he began, sini ing faintly 'tAnd you are aware of m altered circumstances. As friend, as
 minister of the gospel, I am ready advise. perhaps able to comfort; the pries the ceE'f~--,r, the absolver, you kno -- --vEs.- nave t4fse7 fss sSsst I T Know it. was the timid, girlish y hesitating reply.
 Yet the beautiful speaker could hard be called q g.rl. She was in the flower wonanhood, not it's opening bud, and ha : certainly passed her thirtieth year
 q shonld have come to you long ago, she continued, .Sbut my courage fails mel
 Then she broke off suddenly, as if cou age failed her still. A lovely blush tinge her cheeks, tears glistened on the lon eyelashes. 4 sudden light seemed to brea upon his mind. He leaned forward all scrutinized her keenly.
 ''You, too," he said, ''Georgette (
 Beaumont, daughter of one of the mo
 ancient tolIscs of Catholic France. yc
 also have forst ven the faith of your fat
 erss Is it possible that you are Prote torN oIE